


Good Times, Bad Times.

by Alexander_Slamilton



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sassy Sam Winchester, Stop Hurting Cas 2k19, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 07:02:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21370096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexander_Slamilton/pseuds/Alexander_Slamilton
Summary: In the days of my youth I was told what it means to be a man.Dean knows it's wrong to kick Cas out. He knows they're trapped in this cycle of abuse. But he's so angry, he doesn't know how to break out of the circle. Then, after a good talking to from several people, he figures it out.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 54





	Good Times, Bad Times.

Dean leaned against the table for a good while after Cas had walked up the stairs and out the door, the sound of the metal slamming shut echoed in his ears, ringing with finality. He looked down at his hands, eyes tracing the scars they’d acquired in the time since he’d been collecting wounds; he was shaking slightly, adrenaline coursing through his body as it always did during a fight. But, he couldn’t help but think that whatever that had been, it shouldn’t have been a fight. When Cas had gone up to him, his brain had been willing him to forgive Cas, part of his consciousness had been yelling at him to say it was fine, to take Cas in his arms and. But he hadn’t been able to do it. Something had stopped him. Something had held him back, made it so he shouted at the guy instead, nailing one final nail in the coffin they’d been building since Mary had died. Since before then, really. But looking back, really looking back, it hadn’t been Cas. It had never been Cas. Cas wasn’t the one who started the fights, not when he was conscious of it really, it was always Dean, though he couldn’t quite work out why.

“Dean,” Sam was standing in the doorway of the library, looking at Dean like he’d killed Sam’s new puppy or something.

“What.” Dean grunted, sniffling and drawing a hand over his face, “the guy wanted to leave so…”

“So you just decided to… what? Blame him for something that wasn’t actually his fault, and then push out your _best friend? _You can’t actually blame him for mom, he didn’t kill her, Dean.” Sam said, coming into Dean’s space and poking him in the chest. “You don’t get to decide what is and isn’t Cas’s fault. If Belphegor was really trying to absorb those souls he would have been unstoppable, remember when Cas was God? When he had that power? Right? You know… maybe, just maybe he was trying to stop that happening again? Maybe he’s the only one who has been as consistently on our freaking side in this messed up life we’ve had. Do you even want to think about what the dude has been through for us? He gave up an army for you. He’s died for us more than anyone should have had to. He took all my crazy after the cage, he took it all and suffered hell for it. He rebelled against _heaven _for you, against freaking heaven, Dean. And what? You let him go? Like that? Cause Dean you’ve made mistakes, and you can be dumb, and stubborn and ridiculous. But that? That wasn’t dumb, that wasn’t you being pig headed. Dean, that was fucking cruel.”

“It was his fault!” Dean shouted, slamming his hand on the table. “He should have told us about Jack, and he didn’t.”

“So?” Sam sighed, “you make him cry? Cause he was _crying, _Dean. You did that to him. Honestly, he went to hell again for us, and the thanks you gave him was, what? A fuck you, and don’t come back? He’s been trying to get you to forgive him. He’s been trying to talk to you, but you’re too emotionally stunted to even see that.”

“I didn’t want to talk to him, Sam,” Dean sat down heavily on one of the chair, moving away from Sam. “I- I just… Part of me wanted to forgive him, you know? Tell him it was okay, that we’d work through whatever… that we’d deal with the hell Chuck’s gonna throw at us and we’d move on but… I- I- I just couldn’t. It was like my brain and my mouth weren’t connecting or something.”

“Jesus.” Sam breathed out, before he sat opposite Dean, “now’s the time, then I suppose.” He murmured to himself, smiling just a little. “You’ve forgiven me for doing worse.”

“You’re family. It’s different.” Dean grunted,waving a hand as if that explained everything that was going on.

“Oh, is it?” Sam said, laying his trap, “how so? What makes Cas different Dean? Cause for me, at least, Cas is like a brother. He’s been around long enough. He’s always been there for us, for what? Like it’s been over a decade now since he pulled you out of hell, and _rebuilt your entire fucking body_.”

“Cas is… its just…” Dean was getting flustered, a blush was rising on his cheeks and Sam knew his trap was working.

“Cas is? What? A friend? A brother?” Sam said, “Cause that wasn’t what you do to just a friend, and it certainly wasn’t how you treat _family_, so what makes Cas different?”

“I… uh…” Dean wasn’t looking at Sam anymore, he was back to staring at his hands, which still shook, tremors running through them from his wrists to the tips of his fingers. Sam hadn’t seen Dean look so distressed since Mary’s death, but the emotions his brother was fighting this time were different. “I don’t know.”

“Dean. Come on. You know. That wasn’t you being angry at a friend or a brother. That was more like a break up.”

“You been drinking?” Dean laughed, shocked, “or Rowena’s death is hittin’ you harder than I thought. Cause you’ve obviously lost your damn mind.”

“You really need to pull your head out your ass, Dean. And you need to do it soon, cause if you leave it too long, it’ll be too late pull whatever you and Cas had, or were heading to, back.” Sam stood, and left Dean there sitting in the library alone with his head in his hands.

Dean sat there for a while digging his fingers into his temples, “Shit.” He sobbed, the word was torn from his throat. He’d never really stopped long enough to examine his own emotions, had never really allowed himself to, if he was being honest. Dean supposed he could blame it on his dad, but he wondered (as he sat with his head on the table) if that was giving himself a free pass to being lazy. Blaming everything on his dad would sort of ignore the fact that he’d been an adult man for a rather long time, that he should have really looked at his behaviour and his emotions long before that moment. He hadn’t though. Every time it had come up, he’d skipped over it, ignored it and buried it deep down. Dean wasn’t even sure if Sam knew the depth of how he felt, not just about Cas.

Chuck had told them that the End had come. The capital ‘E’ End. Finale. Period. His time was running out; if Dean didn’t do something, and soon, he would loose his chance all-together, though he may have already lost it. It was time to dig down to that buried part of himself, where _feelings, _and _emotions, _lay in locked chests; to this, Dean decided, he’d need Led Zeppelin and some whisky. Both of which he had in his room. Which of course meant moving from the spot he was in.

***

Dean stayed in his room for two days. He knew it had been two days because Sam had asked if he wanted breakfast twice. Both times he’d grunted and rolled over, ignoring his brother because interaction was far beyond his mental capacity at the time. Led Zeppelin had been constantly pouring out of his headphones, and food had been scavenged from whatever Sam left out for him. Which actually, hadn’t been that bad, a departure from the swill Sam usually cooked. The clock by his bed read a healthy three pm, when he surfaced, a full day after Sam had last asked Dean to join him.

“Dean!” Sam was walking down the hallway towards his door, a plate of food in his hands. “You’re actually up.”

He shrugged, “Had to get up sometime, Sammy.”

“Yeah, sure,” Sam nodded, “so get this, I think I found us a case.”

“Sam.”

“I know,” Sam waved his head, “but Cas is here and he doesn’t want to… what?”

“Cas is here?”

“Yeah, I called him and asked him to come back, I mean it was more like begging but he hadn’t gone very far. He’s been here the whole time.”

“And you just… what… _didn’t let me know_?” Dean hissed. “You just thought I would be completely fine with that?”

“Actually, Dean, this isn’t just your house; you don’t get to make all the rules about who can and can’t live here. So, I asked Cas to come back because he’s like a brother to me, and I never intervened with whatever you guys were doing before cause it was none of my business, but now, I can’t just step back and let you shit on Cas. Dean, I literally drank demon blood, and then ran around without a soul for a year. You became a fucking demon, dude, and what Cas makes the same sort of a mistakes that earn us free passes and suddenly he’s dead to you? No man, you’re just too afraid to get a grip on your own feelings.” Sam huffed, and handed Dean the bowl of soup he was holding, “Cas made this for you.”

“So what?” Dean took the soup, “he makes me soup but won’t come talk to me? Yeah that’s real adult.”

“It’s not his job to talk to you, not after you kicked him out,” Sam shrugged, “So, I found us a case, which gives him a little time to settle in here without you. Or you can man up and go talk to him.” He turned and looked at Dean, “look, he wants to talk to you. I think, he does anyway, but you gotta go to him this time. He’s coming back and grovelling anymore. If you need me, I’ll be in my room, packing. I’m gonna leave at like four thirty-ish, so if you’re coming on the hunt meet me at the garage then.”

“Sure, Sam,” Dean sighed, sitting on the floor.

“And, Dean, I love you but really. We gotta stop being so shitty to Cas, he feels emotions too now. I think, along the way, we forgot that. He’s in the library.”

“Sure.”

Dean walked towards the library, he hadn’t felt nervous going to talk to Cas for years, not like this. Palms sweaty, he wiped them on his jeans, hoping they would stop shaking; his heart was beating so fast he could see his shirt moving. That couldn’t be normal. His head felt like it was full of TV static, and his vision was greying, everything was becoming both pixelated and too in focus at once. He continued to walk to the library on legs that felt as stiff as room softened butter.

Cas’s back was turned on him when he first walked in, but Dean coughed and Cas turned around. Dean looked at the angel, who was probably more human then, he properly looked at Cas for the first time in a long time. Cas looked like he was barely holding things together, as though he was made of duct tape and superglue, a broken china pot cobbled together and barely keeping in one piece. Dean could relate. But he wasn’t facing the cause of his breakage.

“Cas,” Dean began, his voice was hoarse, it croaked out of him like it didn’t want to be used at all. “I know you don’t wanna talk to me, and that’s fair, I get it. The past couple’a days I’ve been thinking, about all the times I’ve been a dick to you. And, you know, man, I’ve been pretty awful to you the past few years. And,” he coughed, as Cas stared at him, blankly, “I wanted to tell you that I get it now, it’s not okay for me to pile all my shit up on you and make you feel like crap cause I’m going through stuff.”

“Hm,” Cas grunted, he tilted his head and looked at Dean with a little less apathy.

“So, uh, it isn’t even my place to say, but it’s good to have you here.” Dean nodded along with what he was saying, which in hindsight it would have been good to plan out. “And I wanted to let you know… that… I’m sorry. For all the shit. It’s not cool to treat family like I’ve treated you. And before it might have been easy to pile up the crap on someone who couldn’t feel emotions like I did. I guess, I just got into the habit of doing that. And somewhere along the way I just… conveniently forgot that you feel those things now. That you feel it all. So… that doesn’t make it any better. I know. I just… I wanted you to know that I’m sorry.”

“Right.” Cas said, turning back to the bookshelf he was looking at when Dean came in. “Thank you, Dean.” His voice sounded soft, like he was smiling but didn’t want Dean to see, though Dean decided not to get his hopes up.

“Sure…” He turned away, going back to his room, “and Cas?”

“Hm?” Cas didn’t bother turning around.

“Thanks,” he said, “for the soup, man. And for everything. You never had to do what you’ve done for me. And… uh you always showed up, dude.”

“I’ll always come when you call, Dean.”

***

The case was a pretty simple salt and burn, it took them fewer than three days before they were on the road again. All that happened was Dean getting slammed into a wall in a way that his knees could no longer take, he was getting old, and no longer recovered from hitting the floor on his knees quite so quickly. It took him over-night to feel like he could drive again. They had given Cas the better part of five or so days in the bunker alone, without Dean, both of them reckoned that it was enough time for a (no doubt traumatised) angel to settle in. Sam was speaking to Dean a little more, without the capital ‘C’ conversations now. And, honestly, Dean was in a pretty good mood. He was ready to start figuring out how to take Chuck down. He was still keeping one box of emotions nicely taped down though, this one had iron and silver chains around it, but the rest of his emotions had been slowly gone through day by day and night by sleepless, night.

“You’ve seemed happier these last five days than you have for years, Dean, but I think you have to realise that Cas is still going to be angry with you. One simple apology doesn’t make all the shit right, you gotta know that.” Sam looked at him from the passenger seat of the impala. “He’s still mad with me.” He sighed. “Which I know he has a right to be, I never stopped you from doing that stuff, and I should have. I should have known it was wrong.”

“Yeah, Sam, we both screwed up. But I was the one who told him he was dead to me. All I did was lose both my best friend, my mom, and my kid in one fell swoop; when it didn’t even have to be that way.” Dean said. “I told him he was dead to me. For a mistake that all of us made. I was around you when you were soulless, and I knew what Donatello was like; it wouldn’t have been much of leap. Sure, Cas should have told us, but… we should have known too.”

“I guess part of us didn’t want to believe it.”

“Definitely,” Dean nodded, “I didn’t _want _to see the signs… So I just didn’t. I let myself blame Cas, thinking that would… I dunno. Absolve me of the horrible guilt I’ve been feeling, but what I was really doing… shit… I was pushing away someone I… someone I, you know, care about, I suppose.”

“I get you,” Sam turned to look out the window. Kansas’s golden fields stretched out beyond even the horizon. Never-ending fields of wheat and corn, Dean loved it, whenever they left the midwest he felt somewhat lost. “I wish we’d seen it earlier. That he was feeling everything we did to him, you know. More so, we should have known he would feel it. He’s been more human than angel for a while now hasn’t he?”

“I wonder that even happened? Like for real happened?” Dean thought out loud, “I wonder when he started to Fall for real. D’you think he’ll be able to get any mojo back?”

“I guess with Chuck not on our side, and there being no archangels left, this time it really is for real. Final. You know? There’s no way he’d be able to get grace back. This is it. I think, like The End.”

“And I kicked him out, and told him he was dead to me,” Dean wanted to slam his face on to the steering wheel. “You know, when Kevin died, he told me that he should have been there. Even after he was _homeless_ as a human, after I kicked him out, he beat himself up about Kevin cause he wasn’t there… man how fucked up am I?”

“At least you’re dealing with it.”

“Right before Chuck decides to royally screw us over with another apocalypse, cause I don’t know about you, but I bet that ghost pit was all Chuck meant when he said ‘Welcome to the End’.” Dean scoffed.

“Yeah, no,” Sam nodded, “if that was it, I’d say Chuck was losing his touch, you know. No, I don’t think Chuck is done with us yet. If he meant welcome to the end. You know, writers lie.”

“Would he? Lie about the apocalypse?”

“I don’t know.” Sam shrugged, “either we prepare, and freak out and then nothing happens and it’s fine but we spend the rest of time strung out. Or we don’t prepare and then the worst happens and we try to muddle through like we always do.”

“Yeah, I dunno, man. I have a bad feeling about this,” Dean sighed, “we need to get everyone to the bunker. Everyone who’s left I mean. I am not having any family left on the streets at the moment. I want everyone where I can see them.”

“Yeah, sure,” Sam said, “I’ll put the word out, get everyone home, yeah?”

“Home.” The word tasted sweet on his tongue, warm like spiced apple pie, or honey; Dean settled back into the soft leather seats, letting the bit of road illuminated by his headlights guide him back to the bunker. For a moment his head was clear of worries about Cas, and about the end of the world, Chuck was ousted from his place at the forefront of Dean’s head, and the only thing he was focussing on was the road in front of him. It made a nice change to longer be worried about something. The last few years had been life-changing event after life-changing event, hitting him in the face like brick walls.

***

They got home to the bunker, it seemed like it was empty apart from Cas, who sitting reading on a chair at the farthest end of the room. He didn’t have the trench coat on, instead he was wearing a plaid shirt and Jimmy’s pants; it was a weird combination but Dean thought Cas wouldn’t want to hear that from him. Instead of making some stupid joke, Dean slung his duffle over his shoulder and walked towards his bedroom. He could hear Sam great Cas as he walked away, which honestly made him feel like a piece of crap. As he always did, Dean decided to torture himself a little, he paused in the hall to listen to what they said.

“Hey Cas,” Sam said, “nice to see you’re still here.”

“I wasn’t going to leave, not when you asked me to stay.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t have blamed you, honestly. And hey, nice shirt, man,” Dean could hear Sam laugh.

“Thank you,” he could hear Cas’s smile, he could see it in his minds’ eye as he turned to walk to his room. “Did Dean tell you he apologised to me?”

“Yeah, uh… yeah, he did,” Sam sounded soft, Dean knew he would have the puppy dog look in his eyes. Knew his face would be all turned down. “We… we actually had a pretty good talk, on our way back, I mean. I think he’s opening up. Or well… opening up more. He’s just, just so much as happened, you know… he’s so… we’re all so messed up.”

“Yes.” Cas said, “we have all been through a lot. But, you have never been cruel, Sam. You have never hurt someone. Not like that.”

“I know.” Sam took a deep breath, Dean would bet ten dollars he was scrubbing his hands across his face. “I know that. I just, I know how you feel. I mean, since you told me how you feel about him. I want to help you. And him. Cas, the way our dad brought us up. If Dean had shown any weakness, and feeling like that about _men_, like that would be a weakness to him. Honestly, I think dad might have got violent. When he was alive. Not if he’d been around this whole time but you know. The early 2000s were a different time. He, dad, was the one who was teaching Dean how to be a man. And you know, he didn’t teach love or kindness. Dad had taught Dean with his fists, always fight first. Always finish the fight. That kind of stuff.”

“Yes, but then why aren’t you like that?” Cas asked.

“Cause dad wasn’t the one teaching me, Cas,” Sam sniffed, “Dad never taught me anything. Not how to be a man. Not how to tie my shoelaces. Not anything.”

“Dean,” Cas breathed. Dean tensed, wondering if he’d been caught listening, he was prepared to run but Cas wasn’t coming round the corner; neither was Sam. “Dean was the one teaching you.”

“Yeah.”

“I knew your stories. I believe I know your father, or at least what he was like, but I never considered… never thought about the effect growing up hearing those things, and then realising that they pertain to you, would have.”

“They’re a reason, I guess. I wouldn’t use them to excuse how we both have treated you. You’re family, maybe Dean has a different meaning attached to that, but you are our family and we should never have treated you the way we did.” Sam smiled, Dean bet he was laying a hand on Cas’s shoulder.

“I need a little more time,” Cas said, “I need to figure myself out. It hasn’t been so long for me. Feeling these things. I am not so well versed in human feelings as I thought if I am just working these things out now.”

Dean left, he couldn’t stand there and listen to Cas pouring his heart out, not when Cas didn’t even know he was there. It wasn’t for him to hear, he realised. The thought shook him to his knees. Cas didn’t want to talk to him. Not anymore. He’d tried so much and Dean had just brushed him aside, thinking that his own problems were more important. Or bigger than Cas’s were. He had been cruel. He had been selfish. But he was going to try and make up for it. Not that he really knew how. The way Sam apologised to him was through pie. The way he apologised to Sam was by talking things through in the Impala after a good hunt. But how was he supposed to apologise to an angel that was a thousand years old? Pie probably wouldn’t cut it.

***

Dean took to cataloguing everything that made Cas smile, he wrote each thing down in a journal he kept under his mattress like some sort of teen girl in a chick flick. Every time Cas made happy noise, or even just lifted the corners of his mouth was written down, including whatever caused it and the date. If Cas frowned, this was also written down, as well as what had happened to cause that too. It had been three weeks since Dean had started to do this, Jody and her crew of girls had turned up after three days; Donna had come two days after that, even they had noticed the change in Dean. They commented after it any opportunity they got. So far Dean had figured that anything he did that took Cas into account without him thinking about specifically making Cas happy made Cas smile the widest. Once he’d figured Cas preferred apple pie over cherry, so he bought the apple, but it hadn’t been about making Cas smile, or making him happy; he’d done that the same as how he knew Sam preferred bolognese over marinara pasta sauce.

Of course, there was still one box of emotions he hadn’t tackled, but everything else that had been rolling and broiling around inside him had been slowly unpacked; he was feeling lighter than he had in years. He’d spoken about it with Jody, talking to her felt good, there was no judgement there. Never had been, but he’d been too pigheaded to realise it. They were sitting in the back garage one night, Jody’s car had hit something on her latest grocery trip and Dean was taking it as an excuse to look over it in detail.

“Sam told me you and Cas had a huge fight a couple of weeks back. Now, I don’t know him that well, but I know you, Dean Winchester. And you seem happier than you have in a long time.” Jody was sitting on top of one of the cars, handing him tools cause she insisted that Dean could do whatever he needed doing by himself, even though she was more than capable of handling a car herself.

“Yeah, it was… it sucked, Jody, it really sucked. He walked out and I didn’t do a thing to stop him… hell, I pretty much held the door open to him and waved him on his way. It wasn’t good… but, I’m trying to make him see I’m sorry for that, and maybe we can just go back to the way we were. You know I’ve been pretty much emotionally absent for a few years, what with everything that’s happened. I realised I was pushing all my crap on to him, you know, I was too busy thinking about my problems to even realise what I was doing to him.” Dean said from under the car, so his blush didn’t show.

“Ah,” Jody coughed, “I’m sorry. But you’re not… _with _him?”

“What!? No! Not like that.” Dean nearly hit his head on the top of the car, he rolled himself out to look at Jody. “Nothing like that, we… I’m not… Jody! I’m not gay!”

“Don’t think so black and white. I never said you were gay. Dean, the way you talk about him, it sounds like you’ve been married for years,” Jody said, smiling just a little bit, she spoke like she was trying comfort a scared animal.

“Jody,” Dean groaned, “please don’t do this to me, first Sam and now you? I don’t… I’m not like that.”

Jody looked down at him, the soothing smile was still on her face, “Sam told me you were kicked out cause your dad found you with a guy?”

“When I was sixteen!” Dean waved his hand, he remembered the time, he and this guy from school had actually been making out. “And sure, dad saw what he wanted to see, nothing like that was going on. He brought over his games console and we were dicking about,” He coughed, and ran his hand through his hair, he was sure Jody knew he was lying. “We were sitting closer than normal but the game was… intense… look, I’ve never… I’m sick of trying to explain myself.”

“Dean.” Yep, Jody knew he was lying.

“Jody.”

“I’m not gonna kick you out, and I won’t shout at you. Just, maybe think about how you were talking about Castiel, cause it sounded like you were telling me about a break up; a break up between two people who were romantically involved. And I’m not calling you gay, but maybe you feel Castiel is more than a friend?”

“I dunno, Jody, that sounds pretty gay.”

“Dean, please, you’re happier than you have been in a while, I’ve never seen you like this but I know there’s something on your mind, and I would hate to see that good mood ruined by whatever it is that’s weighing on you.” She hopped off the bonnet and sat beside Dean, stretching her legs out in front of her.

“I can’t-“Dean choked.

“You can’t what? Dean, I know you think you don’t deserve happiness. But that’s not true. You deserve to be happy, and if Castiel is going to make you happy… then maybe that’s what he’s waiting for.” Jody put her hand on his shoulder, her eyes were wide and her face had changed from a smile to down-turned, but soft frown.

“For what?”

“For you to realise that maybe you deserve happiness, and maybe that’s what caused everything that happened between you and him?” Her voice was quiet, as though she was telling Dean a great secret.

“Oh.” Finally, the chains around the box were slipping, Dean could feel it opening up and loosening. Emotions and feelings reeled in front of him like some sort of twisted film of his life. Moments where he knew what was happening between him and Cas, but trampled on his feelings, flickered to life. Times where he let the moment slip through his fingers. There were so many occasions where he should have acted. All this time. All the years. The months. He should have done something. But he’d been punishing both himself and Cas. Mostly Cas. He’d taken out what he was feeling, the anger and repression, and shoved it all on to Cas.

“Yeah, well, I believe it’s time for me to make my exit so you can stew over what we just talked about. Good chat, Dean. Good luck.” At this, Jody stood, she wiped her hands on her jeans and smiled down at him. “I think I’ll take the girls and Sam on a little trip to the movies for, oh, I don’t know three to four hours.”

“Right,” Dean grinned back. “Thank you, Jody.”

“Don’t waste the time you got left Dean, life’s too short and too bloody for that. Just, hang up your hang-ups, you know?” She walked out, her boots thumping on the stairs as she went. Dean waited until he heard the front door slam, they must be taking Donna’s car, which was parked a little ways down the road. He took a deep breath before he went down to the library.

Cas was sitting in the chair he was normally at, his face was sculpted into a frown, and he had another flannel on. This one, Dean recognised as one of his own, not that he cared; they’d been pooling laundry for the last few weeks and he was sure Sam’s terrible orange shirt had ended up in his dresser. He couldn’t deny though, seeing Cas in his clothes was definitely doing something for him. Cas looked up at him and smiled. God. It had been a long time since that happened. They’d talked over the last few weeks, sure, but Cas had only begun even treating him like a friend in the last week. It had been. Good. So good. To see Cas smiling at him, laughing with him again. Repairing their friendship had been so worth it. But Dean was about to risk it all. Doubt rushed at him faster than an eighteen-wheeler on a highway. He wasn’t sure. Despite what he’d heard in the corridor.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said, “Jody seemed in a hurry to get out here, she dragged Alex away from some interesting research we were doing. She said that they needed to go get groceries and also that there was a movie on that she wanted to see; they even took Sam, though there wasn’t enough space in the car for you or I.”

“Yeah, she mentioned that to me,” Dean nodded, sitting down, “hey Cas, when we first met, you know in the barn.”

“That wasn’t the first time, Dean,” Cas frowned, “we first met when-“

“Yeah, I know, I mean… the first time we met face to face?” Dean laughed, he loved it when Cas said things like that, it made him yearn for the simpler times, but he appreciated Cas even sitting and talking to him.

“Oh,” Cas bobbed his head, “when you stabbed me.”

“Uh… yeah… When I stabbed you. You told me that I though, I didn’t deserve to be saved. Right? Well… I wanted to tell you that over the last few weeks I’ve been thinking about that, and uhh… I realise what you said is true. Was true. I thought I didn’t deserve to happy. So much that I put that on you… and I realise that all this time you were trying to talk to me… trying to make me see that… and uh… and I hurt you. I hurt you and used you.” Was he crying? Oh, he was crying. That’s a new thing. Dean figured it might as well happen. “I used you because I was too scared to think about what would happen if I thought of you as a friend.”

“What do you mean?” Cas was looking at him with hooded eyes, Dean couldn’t answer him, the words wouldn’t leave his throat. “You were scared to let me be a friend, because… you thought that if I could be your _friend_, I could also be something… more?”

“Yeah,” Dean’s voice broke, he slumped in the chair with the weight of that simple sentence, it was like the world had been taken off his shoulders. He was free but he was tired, emotionally and literally. “I was too scared to let you get close because I knew… I _knew_ how I would end up feeling for you. And it happened anyway… it happened _anyway, _Cas, I… I feel… I couldn’t let myself feel all these things for you, so I pushed you away but I still feel… I… You… I need to… I never thought I would feel like this… Cas.” The words were stuck in his throat. They refused to be said, and everything was happening too quickly despite the fact that nothing had actually happened.

“Dean,” Cas whispered, his eyes big and round and filled with love. And Dean was panicking slightly because every nerve in his body was screaming at him to kiss Cas, this was the moment right? The time was now, but Dean couldn’t move. He was trapped by Cas’s gaze. “You have to say it. I need to hear you say it.”

They were sitting opposite each other, the space between them too much and not enough all at once. It was like facing down a bear, Dean wanted to move but he also didn’t. He wanted to speak but also he didn’t.

“Say it, Dean,” Cas said softly, his mouth was curved in a tiny smile that barely touched the corners.

“Cas, I… I love you,” Dean felt the words leave his mouth in a rush, like he couldn’t wait to get them out. The moment after he said them was silent, it dragged on endlessly, time stopping around them as the world outside the table and chairs in the softly lit library ceased to exist. Still, neither of them moved. Like a note played on a guitar string, ringing eternal into the air between them.

Until, suddenly, as though he couldn’t stand it anymore, Cas stood and walked around the table till he was in front of Dean. He tugged Dean by the collar of his shirt and pulled him up until they were nose to nose. Dean’s brain had only just caught on to what was happening, or what was about to happen; finally, his synapses recovered from the electric shock of Cas being so close so fast. He wound his hands around the back of Cas’s neck, drawing his closer still, they’d spent so long being apart that Dean no longer could cope being separated. So he dragged Cas even closer until all that separated them was a few centimetres of cloth.

He whispered into Cas’s mouth, “I love you,” and kissed him.

_fin._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I am not above begging, please leave a comment/kudos if you liked this.


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